


A Fine and Endless Cycle

by kartography



Category: Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-14
Updated: 2007-01-13
Packaged: 2017-10-05 02:00:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/36565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kartography/pseuds/kartography
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A freshman year at Hearst and the cyclical nature of love</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First foray into VM. All mistakes are mine

  
  
  
**Entry tags:** |   
[logan/veronica](http://community.livejournal.com/kartography/tag/logan/veronica), [vm](http://community.livejournal.com/kartography/tag/vm)  
  
---|---  
  
_ **Veronica Mars: A Fine and Endless Cycle (1/3)** _

 

 

Their summer is as close to carefree as Veronica comes these days. As the sun wanes over Neptune and Logan gets accepted to Hearst, Veronica allows herself to daydream about what she's strived toward for so long, what kept her going through the worst of high school: College, and maybe even a fresh start.

She reads on the beach while Logan surfs in the mornings, inhaling novels and nonfiction that she's put off reading in favor of cases in the past. College is all about expanding your horizons, she tells herself. She wants to be ready.

She'll finally be free of the '09ers, she'll discuss literature and art and music over coffee, she'll meet people who aren't just interested in getting blasted five nights a week. All this, and with Mac and Wallace.

And Logan. She doesn't have to lose Logan.

Heaven, she lets herself think.

Yeah, that was definitely her first mistake. She sees that now.

\--

Veronica lets Piz kiss her a month after she and Logan split up. They go to art shows and lectures and discuss them over coffee at Common Grounds, a funky little coffee shop right on the south side of campus. Piz likes to talk about politics and literature and Important Issues. They hang at the radio station and he plays her the songs he's working on while she cracks jokes about his Beatles haircut. Soon she's calling him her boyfriend and spending nights in his room, much to Wallace's dismay.

Her relationship with Piz is what a college relationship should be, she thinks. Chill and even-keeled and not-too-serious. Piz isn't trying to stake a claim on her. He doesn't interfere with her investigations and he doesn't pry into all her secrets. He doesn't fucking ask questions all the fucking time. Mostly, they talk about classic rock and South Park and Piz's rock star fantasies. She thinks this is better.

This is easy. This is fine.

\--   
_  
Logan and Veronica's lazy summer melts into the bustle of the new school year and Veronica's already made more enemies than friends. But she's still surprised at how smoothly she's transitioning. _

She sneaks away as often as she can. Little white lies to her father: she's crashing at Mac's after a late party, at all night study sessions in the library, accidentally fell asleep in the student union.

But she' sure Dad's caught on by now, cause the Grand is the first place he calls when she doesn't come home. He's been surprisingly good about it for a man who usually threatens her boyfriends with a shotgun and especially as the man who actually physically threw this particular boyfriend out of her house once before. She knows he's trying to let her absences go, because if they could afford it she'd be at Stanford or at least living in the Hearst dorms and he wouldn't know anything at all about her late night dalliances with anyone.

She can't help but feel guilty about wanting to be elsewhere because he's her father and he's all alone in that house but it's getting harder and harder for her to kiss Logan goodnight and leave at the end of the evenings they spend together.

It doesn't help that the bed at the Grand has the most comfortable mattress she's ever slept on. There's just no way that her twin waterbed with its little-girl comforter can compete with a queen-size adjustable pillow-top with like million-thread sheets and a warm, sleepy (naked) Logan in it.

She loves curling up with Logan at night and even though she won't admit it to herself, she misses his warmth against her side when she's alone in her own bed. Some nights she aches for his presence, considers sneaking out the window and driving back to the Grand just to chase away the sad, hollow feeling. Those nights usually happen when she's just come from his bed still smelling like sex and his cologne.

It's easier to sleep if she hasn't seen him that day, if she can separate the idea of Logan, her boyfriend, from the actual physicality of him, from his eyes and his biceps and his smell. It's easier to just be Veronica Mars, busy college student, and she can drift off while mentally outlining a paper or working through a case instead of curling her arms around her pillow and wishing it had his warm solidity.

Wanting him is anything but convenient.

But neither of them sleeps well anyway, not since that night on the roof, so she's all too glad to sacrifice her rest to see him. And on the nights when they're apart and she's sure sleep isn't coming, she'll send him a text; they both set their phones to vibrate each night and leave them on the nightstand.

'r u awake?' she asks silently over phone lines and if he's still staring up at his patterned ceiling he'll read it and smile and hit 'call.' They spend those nights teasing in hushed voices, talking about nothing until one of them falls asleep. She just likes to hear him breathe in her ear. It's silly and high school, but somehow she likes it.

They've spent too many nights this summer playing "Tell me a secret," a stupid game that Lilly made up after Veronica's freshmen year. It's 'Truth or Dare' without the dares... or the uncomfortable questions you'd rather avoid.

"Truth or Dare is so last year," Lilly'd drawled from behind her huge sunglasses as they lounged by the pool. "None of you ever ask good questions and you miss out on all my fabulous escapades." Duncan had rolled his eyes and Veronica had smiled and Logan just kept splashing around in the pool, boisterous as ever. But they'd gone along with it, and that's how she'd found out that Duncan was afraid of spiders, that Lilly'd once replaced Celeste's moisturizer with hemorrhoid cream, and that Logan still owned the entire library of CareBears priced-to-own videocassettes.

Logan had once noted bitterly that Lilly'd probably just wanted to avoid any awkward questions about cheating on him with Weevil or, you know, fucking his dad. She always liked having all the power. Veronica hadn't said anything, had just stared at him and then walked away, black heels clicking down the linoleum of the courthouse hallway.

Veronica isn't sure why they keep playing; she's starting to think that it's because she and Logan aren't good at serious or good at sharing and that somehow treating it all like a stupid kid's game makes it easier for them to tell each other things.

"Tell me a secret," Logan murmurs into her ear at 3 am on a Tuesday and the lazy smile in his voice warms her down to her toes. "I want to know everything."

She stretches out a little in her bed, curling the phone closer to her ear. "What kind of secret?"

"A good one. Happy."

She smiles a little as she thinks. "I was wearing a thong today. Pink. With a bow on the front."

He huffs his laughter into the receiver. "As thrilling as that piece of information is, it doesn't count as a secret as I distinctly remember tossing said thong onto the dashboard during our little lunch break this afternoon."

"Ah, yes. Well, you've uncovered my clever ruse, Mr. Echolls. I'm stalling for time. You've already heard most of the big ones." She rolls over, contemplating her white-washed ceiling. Hmm. "Ok. Here's one." She rolled onto her stomach. "I was actually kind of disappointed when Dad brought Back-up home for Christmas. I really wanted a kitten. I was going to name it Snowball."

She hears his snort. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Nope. But Dad managed to convince me that a dog was much more useful. Turns out he was right."

"Well, a cat named Snowball wouldn't maul the denizens of Neptune's seedy underbelly on command, that's for sure. Though it'd certainly be more your size. Back-up is way too much dog for you."

His voice is light and playful, but she notes the thread of unease running under the current of his words.

She 'hmphs' a bit at the dig but lets it go because it's been a good day and she's very cozy and starting to fall asleep. "Tell me a secret. Your choice."

Logan is silent for a long moment and she bites back a sad sigh, thinking she knew this was coming tonight. Bad secrets. She felt it lurking in his touch this morning; saw it in the hollowness of his eyes when she showed up at his door for breakfast. She thinks he's been having nightmares and she wanted to ask earlier but he'd already launched into some diatribe about his Econ professor from Hell so she'd let it go.

Now that his father is dead she can see Logan starting to heal, little by little. Without the looming specter of Aaron, Logan's wearing short sleeves when its warm instead of always hiding under layers and his bad-boy jackets. He's stopped dying his hair into that streaky surfer-asshole mix that he favored in high school and is sticking to his natural brown. He's even traded in his X-Terra eyesore, moving up to a still gas-guzzling but more sedate black Range Rover. It's Logan Echolls, the college edition.

She understands what he's doing because she's done it too; the day she ran into her bathroom and hacked off her hair is still crystal-clear in her memory. She knows what it's like to shield yourself through your appearance, to create a persona no one will look past so you can hide and lick your wounds.

Clothes, hair, and attitude: they're such easy ways to misdirect. She can see him shedding his old persona bit by bit, with the new (and maybe the real) Logan peeking through more each day.

A week ago she realized her hair is nearly as long as it was before Lily died and maybe that means she's shedding her own armor as well.

This secrets game they play feels like blood-letting: they open up tiny cuts to let the poison building inside them flow out a little at a time. She wonders if it's possible to bleed it all dry, bleed away rape and murder and betrayal til your veins run clear.

He breathes a shaking sigh over the tinny cell connection and Veronica holds her breath, trying not to shatter this moment. When he speaks, his voice is casual and she knows it's easier for him to do this over the phone because she can't see his eyes. They don't talk about this in person. It's their unspoken rule.

"One time I was home with Aaron for a couple weeks, which didn't happen all that often because he was on-location all the time. I was ten, I think, and Mom was off shooting some Lifetime cancer extravaganza. Aaron told me to go to bed but I didn't go fast enough, I guess. He grabbed my arm, knocked me around, and locked me in the pantry all night and most of the next day. In the dark. I slept with the lights on for a month."

Veronica lets the words wash over her silently because she knows that pity isn't what he needs. He needs to speak the words, to let his secrets out into the air without judgment. Maybe he's told Trina but Trina wouldn't have believed him. Trina probably laughed.

While she doesn't like to remember it, Veronica knows how it feels to be abandoned, mocked by the people supposed to protect you. Some days she thinks that seeing Lamb's face that morning in the Sheriff's office after Shelley's party is the worst thing she's ever experienced. Worse than seeing your best friend's body, worse than being locked in flaming refrigerator by your ex-boyfriend's psychotic father. There's nothing like knowing that you're totally alone with no good guys coming to save you because the good guys don't care.

Well, at least now she has a better idea of why he keeps that trippy ocean light on over his bed while they sleep.

As Logan's breathing evens over the line she offers a version of her usual benediction up into the silence. "I'm glad he's gone."

Logan laughs a little and the sound of it is strained, brittle. They fall asleep together, phones against their ears.

\---

She'd been worried that sex with someone new would be unfulfilling, especially considering her ex-boyfriend's wealth of sexual experience and near lack of inhibition. But sex with Piz is surprisingly good after they get past the initial awkwardness. Different, but good. He's always gentle, always sweet. He knows his way around in bed, and she's usually warmly satisfied by the time they tumble back down into the sheets.

And Piz is smoking hot. Hotter than her last boyfriend, she tells herself over and over again. He's the kind of guy you see in magazines, not like Logan, who was all long, sharp, boyish lines. Piz has movie star good looks, like a young Rob Lowe, all pretty blue eyes and strong, chiseled features. And speaking of chiseled: Piz is seriously ripped.

Yeah, things with Piz are good. He's sweet and fun and a considerate lover.

This is easy. This is fine.

 

\---   
__

They eat lunch in the union and Logan ignores her, finishing an assignment for composition that has to be handed in ten minutes from now. He's scribbling as he shoves another fry in his face, and Veronica can't help but be a little annoyed.

"How's it going?"

He grunts in response and keeps writing. She huffs a little.

"You know, maybe you should have finished this _last night_ instead of playing GTA with Dick for like, five hours." The words actually come out sounding pissier than she meant them too, and Logan finally looks up at her.

"I know, I'm sorry." He shakes out his hand a little and runs his hands through his hair, frustrated. "But he just came over and wouldn't leave. I didn't want to kick him out."

Veronica is a little surprised to realize that she's actually kind of angry about it, so she doesn't say anything and just sips noisily at her drink even though it's all ice now. He works for another couple of minutes, finally sighing and tossing his pen down on the table in front of them.

"Best I can do," he says and then he's sweeping up all their stuff and is halfway to the trashcan before she can even stand up. They walk downstairs together so Logan can leave the paper in the professor's drop-box and then they head back toward the main entrance.

Veronica is studiously ignoring him since she's still irritated that he insisted on having lunch together and then totally blew her off, which is why she's taken by surprise when Logan stops short and she bumps into his arm. "Shit," he says and she looks up to see what's wrong.

Outside the lobby's glass doors is what is quite possibly a monsoon. Rain sheets down so hard that Veronica can't even see the other side of the quad. "What the hell?" She stomps her foot a little, because she's in a tank top since it was hot and sunny this morning.

"Shit," Logan says again, and when she looks up at him he's looking at her skirt. "You're going to freeze. Where's your car?"

Veronica groans at the realization. "The far garage, behind Benedict. I had a late class."

Logan nods and bops up and down a little, jiggling his keys in his pocket with that boundless Echolls energy. "My car's closer. I'll drive you over."

Veronica nods in agreement and thanks god for her decision to leave her laptop in the car. She's not sure it would survive the downpour. Logan starts walking towards the exit and she has to run a little to follow him. He stops in front of the door and hitches his track jacket up over his head. "Get under."

Veronica quirks a curious eyebrow at him. "What?"

He gestures in the vicinity of his armpit. "We can share the jacket; it's better than nothing."

She wants to point out that his flimsy excuse for a jacket will maybe keep them dry for all of five seconds, but instead just decides to appreciate the opportunity to get close to him. She presses against his side, wrapping her arms around his waist and he pulls the jacket over and around them. They push through the door and into the drenching rain towards Logan's car.

After five minutes they're both drenched and finally Logan pulls away, laughing. "Okay, so that actually didn't work as well as I envisioned," he half-shouts over the splatter of water against the sidewalk, and he has to wipe his face to stop the raindrops sluicing down his face. "Maybe we should just run."

Veronica shrugs, since it's not like they're going to get any wetter. He laces his fingers through hers and tugs her into a jog. As soon as they can see the car, Logan beeps the doors open and drops her hand, breaking into a sprint. She tries to hold back the laughter that bubbles out of her at the sight of Logan attempting to run in wet flip-flops and waterlogged jeans, but the absurdity cannot be overcome.

Finally, finally they're out of the rain and Logan cranks the heat up full blast. Veronica looks down at her clothes, literally sopping wet, and notes the water puddling onto the leather seats with dismay.

Logan, less concerned with the state of his upholstery, shucks off his dripping tee and starts ringing it out onto the floor. For a moment Veronica is transfixed, slightly horrified by his display of typical-teenage-boy disregard for his property, but then her gaze catches on the way his biceps move under the freckled skin of his shoulders. She touches her tongue to her lips. Her mouth is dry.

Logan finally notices her gaping at him and misunderstands. "C'mon Veronica, I'll just get the interior detailed again. No big-" and she silences him by pressing her lips against his. He freezes, surprised, and then begins to respond in earnest. She feels his lips slide into a grin and she pulls back when she ends up kissing the slick surface of his teeth.

"Logan, what?"

He shakes his head, still grinning his stupid smug grin. "I thought you were pissed at me."

She narrows her eyes and reaches for him again. He dodges her hands, pressing back against the window. "Seriously though," he continues, raising one eyebrow at her. "I can end all our stupid fights just by taking my shirt off? Cause that's a really good thing for me to know."

Veronica tries to keep glaring at him, but his hair is plastered to his forehead and her blood is thrumming for him and she starts to laugh. "Well, it helps that you're wet."

Logan looks down at his torso, possibly evaluating his own attractiveness, she can't be sure, and she takes the opportunity to wrap her hand around the back of his neck and pull him into a searing kiss.

When they finally pull apart Logan leans in to nip at her neck, but she pushes against his chest. "Back seat. Now."

His eyes flash merrily at her and that smug grin is back. "Yes, ma'am!" he throws back over his shoulder as he climbs over the divider, shucking his jeans off as he goes.

Veronica pulls her shirt and bra up and over her head, silently offering up a prayer of thanks that Logan went for the super-dark tint on the windows. She follows him over the divider and he pulls her into his lap, settling her legs around him as rain beats down on the roof. He claims her lips eagerly as she wiggles closer, running her hands up his chest and tickling the sparse dark hairs.

She moans a little in anticipation as his fingers drag up her thighs , taking her skirt with them and bunching it around her waist. The sounds only seem to encourage him and he presses fervent kisses against her collarbone as she nips at his earlobe.

"What do you want," he gasps a little and he's already so hard between her legs, she can feel him through his boxers. She needs the friction and she grinds down against him. The pressure against his cock makes Logan's hands tighten convulsively on her ass as he whines a little in the back of his throat.

"Hard," Veronica breathes against his neck. "And fast."

"Oh, Christ yes," he groans in agreement, and one hand finds its way between her legs. She tugs at his boxers, managing to get them down far enough so his erection springs free. Her fingers slide around him and she squeezes gently, making him grunt. "You are my best girlfriend."

Smiling, she bites his neck hard as his fingers push away her panties. "I better be your only girlfriend."

His forehead presses against hers, and she looks up to meet his eyes as his hair tickles her face. "Always," he says, with that intensity in his voice and his face and his eyes that makes her suddenly feel a little nauseous. His dark eyes pull her in but she's terrified of him when he's like this, so single-mindedly dedicated to her. They're too young for this, too fickle, and she's desperate to break the spell so she grinds down on his lap and leans in to press wet, sloppy kisses under his chin. Soon he is pressing inside her and her moment of panic is forgotten in the hot slide of their bodies.

She lets the muscles of her neck go loose as he thrusts into her, his hands guiding her hips as they move together. Her head lolls back and good, he feels so good.

"Christ, Veronica," he grits out, leaning down to capture a nipple in his teeth. She digs her fingernails hard, too hard, into his shoulders, her inner muscles clenching at the sound of his answering gasp. She likes how Logan embraces pain, how it turns him on.

She moans his name, low and needy, which Logan interprets correctly as a plea for more. He tilts her body back so her head rests against the front seat, changing the angle of their bodies. The shift inside her makes her whimper with pleasure. He picks up the pace, slamming into her so she slams hard against the seat every time and his fingers are brushing her clit and everywhere, and god it's incredible.

She comes, panting out his name and clutching at him as he shudders in her arms, groaning something she doesn't understand.

Afterwards he gathers her up into his arms and, Jesus, they're in the back of a Range Rover but she was up all night writing a paper and is so satisfied and sleepy and warm that she doesn't protest when he settles her against his chest, her head tucked under his chin as his hands smooth down her back. The steady splatter of rain against the windows drives everything out of her mind and she slips softly into oblivion, lips resting on his collarbone.

*

She wakes slowly to the sound of uneven snuffling. Confused, she has to shake herself, get her bearings. She's still sitting pressed against Logan, who's snoring softly, head tipped back against the leather seats.

She shifts experimentally, grimacing as tingling pain shoots through her lower calves and feet. Falling asleep straddling someone apparently makes for intense pins and needles. Finally orienting herself, she notices the silence. The streets outside the truck are dark and Veronica catches the soft green reflection of the dashboard LED clock in the window.

6:32 pm.

"Shit!"

She thumps Logan on the arm as she scrambles off his lap, pulling down her skirt. "Logan." He grumbles a little, and she swats him again. His fingers circle her wrist, catching her as she's about to hit him again, and he pins her with an irritated glare.

"What?"

"We fell asleep. I was supposed to be at the library over an hour ago!"

Logan blinks, still hazy and not at all caring, and rubs at his eyes. "So blow it off, you've already missed half your shift. Tell them your car broke down or something. Let's go home."

Something wells up inside her, frustration and disappointment and embarrassment all at once. It clenches in her chest and suddenly she's angry at him, really angry. For what, she isn't sure; maybe for making irresponsibility sound so appealing. Or maybe for having so much power over her that she'll jump him in the back seat of his car with little or no provocation.

Whatever it is, her hands are nearly shaking with it as she reaches for her shirt, and her mouth pulls tight in a grim line.

"You're so..." she grits out and she feels him tense next to her at the tone of her voice. She shakes her head and grabs the door handle yanking it open so she can walk around to the front seat. She slams the heavy door behind her and crosses her arms tightly over her chest. "Could you just take me to the library?"

He sits silent for a long moment and guilt washes over and through her. He didn't deserve that, not really, but she isn't quite sure how to apologize or if she even wants to. Logan gets out of the car wearing nothing but his boxers and slides into the front seat, not looking at her. They drive in silence and when the car rolls to a stop at the long stone steps in front of the building, his knuckles whiten, fingers clenching around the wheel.

"Veronica..." he starts, conciliatory.

"Not right now." She tries not to meet his eyes. "Later. I just... I have to go." She slides out of the car, jogging up the steps without a backwards glance. She pretends not to care when she hears the engine rev, instead concentrates on her silent plea to not be fired. She needs this job.

 

Later, as she goes methodically through the return cart, she pauses over "Walden and Resistance to Civil Government" to think.

She gets frustrated with how directionless Logan is, how he seems to just drift through college like he did through high school. He parties with Dick and Mercer and he tries to get her back to his hotel room as much as possible. He's not interested in clubs or lectures or all that college has to offer, and Veronica can't help but feel like he's dragging her down with him.

College is supposed to be different. She's supposed to hang out with professors and talk about literature, preferably while sipping coffee from gigantic, soup-bowl sized cups. People in her classes are supposed to be thoughtful and well-spoken. People are supposed to have fun without going through five kegs a night.

All that was supposed to end when she left Neptune High. No more stupid, pointless parties and shallow, vapid people.

She knows that's what college is supposed to be like, and she knows that those interesting, thoughtful people are out there. Those chances are out there. But she's never going to have those experiences if she's just hanging in bed with Logan at the Grand all the time.

Things are going to change, she decides.

\---  


Veronica knew she would miss Logan when they broke up. She's gone through it before, when they broke up the first time and again when Duncan left, and she survived. She'll get through it again and the pain will fade and she'll move on, just like people are supposed to.

But somehow, this time isn't the same as any of the other times.

When she broke up with Logan that first July, he was still there all the time. In her classes, by her locker, sniping at her and glaring across the quad. But on a big campus she really doesn't see him at all, and maybe that's why this is different.

Veronica is constantly surprised at how _specifically _she misses Logan. With Duncan, it was a general sort of melancholy that just sort of settled over her heart as she walked off the pier and away from him forever. But this, this is a thousand little things a day that make her think of Logan, just sort of pricking at her consciousness.

Piz's sleeves are always a little short, flapping around his wrists as he gestures expansively and, out of nowhere she'll wish they were longer, just so they hung a little over his hands.

The janitor in the library talks like David Hassellhoff and Veronica can barely contain her glee, but when she busts out her impression at lunch with Wallace, Mac, and Parker, she only gets a few raised eyebrows. Obviously, no one else appreciates the Hoff the way Logan did.

Veronica likes sleeping on her side, but Piz says it makes his shoulder fall asleep. He sleeps on his back and she has to curl up around him. She misses Logan's fondness for spooning; his breath tickling her hair and arms heavy around her waist, how he would carefully align their hips and curl against her back.

She even misses how he mumbles in his sleep, even though it always pissed her off when he woke her up in the middle of the night muttering nonsensically about ceiling fans.

This is silly, Veronica thinks. She's romanticizing their relationship. Remember the good and forget the bad, that's what people always do, right? She should just talk to him. She should be the bigger person. They can still be friends.

\---

When Piz asks if she wants to go with him to the Pi Sig April Fool's blowout, she surprises herself and agrees. She thinks Piz looks a little surprised too, but to his credit he lets it go. She attempts to convince herself that she really is in the mood for debauchery and isn't going just to make some kind of overture to Logan, who's sure to be hanging with Dick.

So she, Piz, Wallace, Parker, and a reluctant Mac head to the house on Friday night. There's a Journey cover band, and Piz immediately drags her over to chat up the keyboardist and the sound guys, who are lounging around smoking on the patio in between sets. After learning way more about Jack, the sound board operator, and his own band that "sometimes play covers, but mostly do techno dance riffs" than Veronica ever wanted to know, she pats Piz on the arm and leaves him chatting animatedly, off in search of the bar.

There's chanting and thumping coming from the living room and Veronica follows the sound. Wherever there are loud boys, there's usually booze. The room is packed to bursting. Several tables for flip-cup are arranged around the space, and with a pang she recognizes a dark head bent over the longest, rowdiest one.

"Champagne fill-up, dudes and dudettes," Dick crows from the head of the table. "This round is men vs. ladies, so mosey those pretty little asses over to the far side of the table." He punctuates this with a playful slap to Bonnie's behind as she brushes past him, and he takes his place next to Logan, who throws a careless arm around Dick's shoulders.

Veronica debates whether or not to approach him. He looks good, happy, and she isn't sure how he'd respond to seeing her. They haven't really talked since just after Valentine's Day. Plus, judging by the way he's chugging down champagne, he's drunk and drunk Logan isn't something she wants to deal with right now. Drunk Logan is wildly unpredictable, and Veronica doesn't like unpredictable. Veronica likes to be two steps ahead.

She makes her way to the bar instead, stopping to watch the crowd on the patio go wild as the band kicks into "Don't Stop Believin," and shakes her head in amusement as a junior from her Criminology class awkwardly attempts a stage dive.

Her amusement is short-lived- a surprised shout pulls her attention back to the room, and she freezes.

Logan has a big, beefy Pi Sig pinned against the wall, his forearm pressed into the guy's windpipe. "You piece of trash," he snarls, and pulls backward in a whirl of plaid to deck the brother in the face. The entire room is still, everyone watching in stunned silence as Logan and the meathead grapple with each other.

"What the hell, man?!" the guy shouts, and Logan lands a punch in his stomach.

"I saw you slip something in that girl's drink, you fucking _trash_!" Logan lunges as he shouts, grabbing for him again but the rest of the Pi's have finally collected their wits, getting hold of Logan and heaving him off the guy. They look to Chip.   
"Get him out of here," he shakes his head disdainfully, and the two guys haul a struggling Logan down the hallway. Veronica looks around but doesn't see any of her friends. Cursing under her breath she follows them, reaching the door just in time to see the guys toss Logan down the stairs and onto the sidewalk.

She watches from the porch as he sits slowly, coming to rest with his hands and head hanging between his knees.

"Are you alright?"

He's up like a shot at the sound of her voice, muscles strung tight. She can see now that he's shaking, practically vibrating with anger.

"Veronica Mars," he bites out. "Just in time to witness yet another of my worst moments."

She simply watches him, arms crossed against her chest as she leans casually against the porch railing. "You promised you were done with fighting."

A short, bitter laugh escapes him. "Since when do _you_ expect me to keep my promises? I'm bad to the bone, remember? Isn't that what you always think?" His voice is so acerbic that she really wishes she hadn't come outside, but someone had to make sure he's okay.

She doesn't answer him, just watches, and he deflates a little. "You don't get to care about what I do. You dumped me this time. You dumped me and you just _left_ me, alone, no ride, in Napa. You don't get to care."

His nose is bleeding and the contrast of the red blood and his pale face illuminated by the single streetlight makes something curl in her, low and warm in her stomach. She thinks it might be lust, and that pisses her off.

"You had plenty of money. And plenty of _friends_ to help you out."

He flinches a little and a muscle in his jaw ticks as he stares determinedly at the ground, clenching his fists methodically as he cools down.

"You can't just go around punching people, Logan."

He meets her gaze, unblinking, and his body is finally still. "I'm always going to punch people who deserve it. He tried to drug that girl."

"You're going to get seriously hurt."

His mouth tightens into a thin, angry line and she's struck a nerve. "You know better than anyone that I'm not afraid of pain."

And then he's walking off into the inky blackness of the night without a backwards glance. Veronica stays on the porch, watching the white soles of his tennis shoes until they fade away down the sidewalk.

They'd just sort of fallen back together after Mercer was thrown in jail. Any resolve Logan might have had to stay broken up had dissolved when Veronica had shown up at his door the night after Wallace bailed him out of jail. The bruises from the attack still shone dark at her temple, and he'd helplessly gathered her up in his arms as she embraced him tightly. All Veronica wanted then was to get back to normal, and this year, normal meant Logan.

But their old problems still hung over them, dark clouds on the horizon. Veronica couldn't trust him, couldn't let him close, and Logan kept pushing, pushing, pushing, and soon enough it all came to an ugly, terrible head in the parking lot of a plush hotel in Napa where they were fulfilling the dual purpose of a taking a wine-tasting trip for Valentine's Day and surveilling a cheating fiancé for one of her father's clients.

The fight ended in Veronica telling Logan that being with him made her unhappy and that she wanted out of the relationship, and with Logan storming off to the bar. When she'd gone to find him two hours later to give him his wallet so he could get back into his room, she'd found him wasted already, flirting shamelessly with a group of girls on a trip with their sorority. He'd caught her eye across the bar and she'd seen the flicker of satisfaction flit across his face. He _wanted_ her to catch him, was _waiting_ for it.

She distinctly recalls throwing the wallet at him and letting loose a few choice words at his look of surprised outrage, shouting that she never wanted to see him again. Without giving him time to follow she'd stormed out of the hotel, fired up her new hybrid, and driven straight back to Neptune, squinting through angry tears. After her breathing calmed, she remembered screaming at him but it didn't feel real, faded and dreamy like someone else's memories, and she almost called him four times before she got home but something stopped her just before she hit 'send' every time.

She'd been so worked up that she forgot all her surveillance equipment, and her dad had to make a trip back up the next week to retrieve it all.

\---

Two weeks after the party, Veronica goes looking for Parker during her lunch break. She's working a standard cheating boyfriend case for a girl in her Intro Pysch class and she just heard that the boyfriend hopped a Safe Ride cart with another girl over the weekend. She needs to find out who was driving so she can ask some questions, maybe find out who the girl was. Parker usually works the lunch shift at the Take Back the Night table, and Veronica's hoping she can hook her up.

The California sun shines brightly as she pushes through the noontime crowd on the north quad, along the crowded rows of tables set up advertising everything from blood drives to bake sales to fashion shows. After dodging some girls trying desperately to recruit her for the Women in Science club, she finally gets to the edge of the row, Parker's usual table. And her stomach drops.

Instead of Parker, Logan is manning the table, and Veronica knows him well enough to recognize when he's pouring on the charm even when she's too far away to hear what he's saying. He's leaning casually against the table, chatting with two tall, dark-haired upperclassmen, lots of eyelash action and dimples and self-deprecating grins. Something flashes in her chest, hot and angry, but she pushes it down as she strides over. She's just going to ask where Parker is, she tells herself. Nothing else.

But when she reaches the end of the table and she finds her eyes drifting to the way his tan shirt stretches over his chest, something flares inside her.

"Trolling for dates?" Veronica simpers cheerily, eyes hard and glittering. That isn't really what she meant to say, but she feels a sort of biting satisfaction when he glances up at her, mouth tightening as he shifts away from the other girls.

"Nice to see you, too," he says with that false, sarcastic smile she knows so well from the beginning of senior year.

"Seriously." Veronica says, leaning in intently. "Logan Echolls serving the greater good? This doesn't seem like your usual scene; all the community service I recall was court-mandated. What the hell are you doing here?"

The two girls titter uncomfortably but Logan ignores them, the not-smile sliding from his lips as his face clouds at the hit.

"Well, considering two of my friends turned out to be rapists, I figured I should start making amends. I need the deck stacked in my favor." He glares up at her bitterly. "Don't you have other, better things to be doing? Like ripping out hearts and stomping all over people, perhaps?"

Her whole body tenses at the acid in his voice. If that's the way he wants it, fine. She's smarting for a fight. "Whatever," she says loudly in her sweetest, most syrupy hapless blonde voice. "By the way, thanks for letting me know about the _herpes._ Turns out I'm clean, but that really sucks for you. It never goes away, right? Bummer." She flips her hair a little, for effect. "At least there's that pill to limit the outbreaks. You should look into that."

Veronica turns on her heel and strides off across the quad, riding the high of her verbal victory. She throws a glance over her shoulder, accompanied by a cheeky little wave. The two skanky sophomores are looking much less interested and much more grossed out.

Logan, on the other hand, is watching her depart through the fringe of his eyelashes. The trace of a dimple shadowing his smirk tells her that he's charmed, even against his will.

Just like always.

Yup, that definitely felt good.

\--

 


	2. A Fine and Endless Cycle (2/3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A freshman year at Hearst and the cyclical nature of love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First foray into VM. All mistakes are mine

  
  
  
**Entry tags:** |   
[logan/veronica](http://community.livejournal.com/kartography/tag/logan/veronica), [vm](http://community.livejournal.com/kartography/tag/vm)  
  
---|---  
  
_ **Veronica Mars: A Fine and Endless Cycle (2/3)** _

Title: A Fine and Endless Cycle (2/3)  
Author: Spin  
Characters: Veronica, Logan, ensemble  
Ship: Veronica/Logan, Veronica/Piz  
Spoilers: Through 3.09  
Rating: NC-17  
Words: 18,661 altogether

Summary: A freshman year at Hearst and the cyclical nature of love  
Disclaimer: Not mine  
Author's Note: First foray into VM. All mistakes are mine

 

[Part 1](http://community.livejournal.com/kartography/434.html#cutid1)

 

Her dad's off in Arizona chasing a down a bail jumper, so Piz spends the night at her place. They make love in her bed, something she's never actually done before, and it's incredibly strange.

Afterwards they watch late night talk shows, sprawled out on the floor in front of the couch as they discuss Piz's latest radio show.

"We never talk about you," he says suddenly, cocking his head.

"What?" she says, thrown off-balance by this abrupt change in their dynamic. This isn't the way things with Piz are supposed to go.

"I mean, we talk about cases, but I want to know more about you. Wallace told me about your friend and that you had a tough time in high school, but- what about your other friends? Family? Life-altering events, for good or bad? Really, just all the various and sundry details." He smiles. "I think you're a very interesting person, and I want to know more."

Life-altering events? Well, she can definitely think of a few. She studies Piz carefully; he looks earnest enough, like he's genuinely curious, but how do you begin to describe the events of the past few years to someone who didn't live them? How can he possibly understand what Lilly's death did to Neptune, to her family? How can she begin to tell him about Shelley's party when she remembers the stymied look on his face when she told him about Parker's rape?

She's not ready, she needs more time. The thought of opening up to him makes her a little nauseous, so instead she just shakes her head. "Not much to tell, really. I'm pretty normal."

When his eager face falls a little, she feels a pang of guilt. "I really love dogs, though. And sometimes, my dad and I eat ice cream for dinner. It's our dark secret."

Piz smiles, appeased for now. Crisis averted.

\--

Piz's band, Black Licorice, is playing their first ever public show at a Band Showcase fundraiser, and Veronica promises a nervous Piz she'll be there, front row, cheering him on. His band is playing early, so they plan to catch a late movie after.

But on her way she gets accosted by a distraught girl who's heard from a friend that Veronica "does things." After trying for ten minutes to get the girl calmed down, Veronica finally finds out that she's the girlfriend of a student recently expelled in a gigantic coke bust.

"He couldn't be dealing," Lauren sobs. "He's not like that, he's a good person."

Veronica tries not to roll her eyes and refrains from telling Lauren just how easy it is to be blind to the faults of the people you love. They agree to meet tomorrow to talk more about the details of the case, and Veronica curses when she gets a look at the time.

Black Licorice is halfway through their set when Veronica makes it to the show, and she pushes through the crowd to stand next to Wallace, Mac, and Parker. "How's it going?"

Wallace grins. "Well, the crowd's on their side, at least." The band's sound is sort of generic indie rock, the drummer's a bit too loud, and guitar and vocals get lost in the clash, but the crowd of girls in front of the stage seem to be enjoying themselves.

Veronica is oddly disappointed. From the amount of time Piz spends talking about the band, she was really expecting something great. They're not quite good, instead hovering around decent, and all of a sudden Piz's dreams of becoming a rock star seem much less ambitious and much more misguided.

She shakes herself. Jeez, they're just a college band, what did she expect? Piz certainly seems to be enjoying himself, wailing on his guitar and soaking up all the attention with a wide grin on his face. As long as he's having fun, that's all that really matters, right?

They all cheer as the band finishes up their last song, and Piz takes the mic. "Thanks for coming out everyone, we're Black Licorice! We're available to play parties, so keep us in mind and thanks for being a great audience."

As the band files off the stage, they're waylaid by a group of girls standing on the side of the room. After determining that Piz is momentarily detained, Veronica grabs Parker by the elbow, leading her to a quiet corner.

"I've got a few questions about riders in Safe Ride carts last weekend. Do you think you can help me out?"

Parker shrugs. "Sure, but I don't have the stuff with me now. Why don't you come by the table tomorrow at lunch?"

Right. Hmm. "I actually came by on Monday and you weren't there. Since when is Logan in Take Back the Night?"

Parker nods. "Yeah, I thought it was a little weird too, at first. He came in the day after he got thrown out of that Pi Sig party, really pissed. He said he had a lot of free time on his hands and he was looking for stuff to do. Did you know he got blacklisted from all Greek parties for the rest of the year?"

Veronica blinks. "No. Wow, that's pretty harsh." Parker tilts her head in agreement.

"Apparently, the frats don't appreciate you attacking a brother, even if said brother is possibly trying to commit date-rape." She shakes the hair out of her face. "Honestly, when he joined I thought it was because he wanted to have an in."

Squinting in confusion, Veronica asks "An in? For what?"

Raising her eyebrows seriously, Parker purses her lips. "For you. He kept casually bringing you up whenever we were talking, trying to find out how you were, what you were up to. But he's actually been really involved in the club, really enthusiastic. It makes sense, when you think about it."

"What do you mean, it makes sense?"

Parker tips her shoulder. "He has friends who've been affected by rape. He's trusted people he shouldn't have and gotten burned." Veronica nods, uncomfortable as always whenever someone alludes to her own experience at Shelley's party, but Parker steps closer, lowering her voice. "You know, Take Back the Night isn't just about preventing rape. It's about preventing violence against people not already equipped to protect themselves. Genital mutilation, domestic violence." Parker licks her lips, looking away and then back at Veronica, her gaze piercing. "And child abuse."

Veronica's heart stutters in her chest. She knows. Did he _tell her?_ For some reason the thought of Logan confiding his most carefully guarded secrets to Parker makes her a little nauseous. "He told you?"

Parker shakes her head, crossing her arms in front of her. "I guessed. When you two used to play that 'Who's Paler' game with your arms? I noticed those little scars inside his elbows and wrists. At first I thought they must have been from an IV or something, like he'd had an operation, but then we hosted a panel discussion with a social worker on recognizing the signs of abuse and she brought a lot of pictures. And then when he showed up, and with all the stuff about his dad being violent, I realized they must be-"

"Cigarette burns." Veronica finishes a little sadly. "Yeah, I guess you're right. It does make sense that he'd join. I hadn't thought of that."

Parker's eyes search her face measuringly. "You know, if you wanted to... talk to him, I think he'd be willing. He asks about you a lot."

Veronica scoffs, shaking her head. "I really doubt it." Suddenly, she wants this conversation to be over, far away, because it's making her think things she isn't supposed to be thinking.

_Logan asks about her?_

"Let's go find everybody else," she says with forced brightness, and turns on her heel to stride off toward the small knot that's formed around Piz and Wallace without waiting to see if Parker follows.

"Hey," Veronica says, sidling up to Piz, who's talking animatedly to a girl with hair dyed in neon red. "Sorry I was late. A girl stopped me and it was just a mess."

Piz turns to her, smiling. "You were late? Oh, that's totally cool, don't worry. We were super-busy before the set. Want to head out to the movie?"

"Sure," she smiles as she follows him out the door, but something niggles at the back of her mind. He doesn't even care that she missed most of his set, even though she promised she'd be there? She should be relieved that he isn't mad, that he's not going to pick a fight and ruin their evening, but she can't help but be a bit disappointed that he didn't notice.

"So it was a good set," Veronica tells him. He grins brightly, and begins chattering away about their song list and the audience reception to each one, but for the first time, Veronica doesn't feel like he's talking to her. It's like he's reading off a script, just talking to fill the air and she's suddenly reminded of watching Piz on his radio show, just talking, talking, talking to his unseen listeners.

But then he squeezes her hand. "Hey, you okay?" and she smiles at his sweetness, his open simplicity, and pushes down all her doubts.

They walk down the dark street, hand in hand, and attempt to skirt around a group of drunk, burly guys breaking bottles.

"Hey, honey baby," one of the guys leers. "Come over here. I've got something to show you."

Veronica rolls her eyes. "Oh," she calls back sarcastically. "I bet it's big." She tugs Piz along, attempting to outpace them.

"Come on baby, leave that gay-ass faggot alone and let us show you some real fun."

Veronica whirls, stalking back toward them to give the guys what they so richly deserve, but someone grabs her arm, pulling her back gently.

"Come on Veronica," Piz says softly, with a restraining hand on her shoulder. "Let's just go to the movie."

Veronica blinks, staring at Piz in wide-eyed disbelief. No one has ever doubted her ability to come out on top in a head-to-head like this, not for years.

_Coward_, a tiny traitorous voice whispers in the back of her mind as her fingers itch toward her taser. _He's just going to take that?_

But she shakes her head and it slips away. Veronica steps back, forcing a smile. "Right. We don't want to be late," and she grasps his hand as they walk briskly in the other direction.

That's what normal people do, right? People don't pick fights on dark street corners, especially with huge guys like that.

This is smarter. This is safer. This is fine.

\--  
The closer she looks at this cocaine bust case the more she believes Lauren that it was a set-up, and she feels a tiny bit bad about immediately writing the girl off as a poor, stupid girlfriend.

The campus grapevine yields no one who's heard anything about Lauren's boyfriend dealing coke, much less any other drugs. A few tips point her instead in the direction of one Tim Nichols, a Pi Sig who Veronica is completely unsurprised to discover is the same guy Logan punched for trying to slip a girl some GHB.

She needs someone convincing to make contact with Tim. Usually she'd use Logan in this situation. He's rich, white, a notorious partier, and, bonus: a known organizer of bum fights. Who _wouldn't_ believe he wanted to score some coke?

But Logan isn't around anymore, and that's how Veronica ends up sitting in the back seat of her Saturn at the park, helping Weevil tape a mic inside of his shirt. He's going to meet Tim, fulfilling the dual purpose of getting proof that Tim is dealing and distracting him so Veronica can bug his car.

"You sure you didn't ask me here just to get a peek inside my shirt, V?" Weevil asks with his familiar good-natured leer. "You been down there an awful long time."

Typical. She rolls her eyes, falling easily into their familiar banter. "Dream on, Weevil."

"Every night. Hey, that's our guy." He finishes buttoning his shirt and then rolls easily out the side door, striding confidently off to their appointed meeting spot in the far corner of the park. Once Weevil has Tim talking, Veronica adjusts her earpiece so she can keep track of the conversation and slips out of the car, skirting the edge of the park to Tim's hideous green Jaguar, bug and tracker in hand.

When she slides back into her car, Weevil's finishing up his meeting with Tim after successfully convincing him that he's a legitimate customer. They make plans to meet again, and Tim walks off toward his car, leaving Weevil still watching him depart. Veronica leans back, letting out a deep breath. That was cake.

Something on the other side of the park catches her eye, and Veronica shifts forward again, squinting through the growing darkness. A tall man wearing a dark hooded jacket shot up from the bench as soon as Tim walked away, and now is striding determinedly toward Weevil.

"Shit," Veronica mutters, pounding a fist against the dashboard. She's prays it's not one of Tim associates, or worse yet, the cops. Frozen, she sits for a second, unsure whether she should get out to help Weevil or call someone for back-up. Her decision is made for her when the guy grabs Weevil roughly by the collar. As Veronica slams her door open, the man's voice comes, growling and angry, in a burst of static over her earpiece.

"What the _hell_ are you doing with that guy!?"

Shit. She'd know that voice anywhere.

Weevil pushes roughly at Logan's hands, shoving him backwards as he sneers. "None of your business, white boy."

Logan lunges for him again, even angrier than before. "Then stay the hell away from Veronica. I saw you hanging around-"

Veronica hurries across the park, fearing further escalation. Weevil's been on edge all week because of this case and the last thing she needs is him deciding to pound her ex into the ground as a stress reliever."

Weevil smirks nastily, getting right in Logan's face. "Last I heard, you've got no say in who she 'spends time' with. I can't help it if she'd rather be with me than you." Logan's expression darkens with rage, and as she approaches Veronica sees the satisfaction play over Weevil's face. He's always known just what buttons to push to make Logan lose it.

"Boys, whoa, whoa, whoa." She reaches them just as Logan pushes Weevil again, tugging them apart and stepping between them. But it isn't until she's face to face with a dark goatee that she realizes it's _ Logan_ she's protecting, Logan that she's shielding with her own body even though he's the one that started the whole altercation.

Weevil quirks an amused eyebrow at her, and she knows his thoughts are mirroring her own.

"Veronica?" Logan's voice floats over her shoulder, confusion laid bare in his tone.

"Weevil's helping with a case, Logan," she says over her shoulder while she tries to will Weevil to behave with her eyes. Turning to face him, she starts "We got a tip that- Christ, what happened to your face?"

He's flushing hotly, maybe with embarrassment, but through the blush the sickly purple and yellow of bruising mottle his cheekbones and chin. His left eye is blacked and a little swollen, and Veronica counts five stitches across a gash in his forehead. He doesn't respond, staring wide-eyed at her, caught, and her heart contracts painfully at the thought of someone hurting him.

"Who did this to you?" and her voice comes out as an angry whisper. He starts, and her tone seems to shock him into speech.

"Couple of Pi Sigs, a few nights ago. They got me alone coming out of the Union. Dick said he asked them to just leave me alone but-," Logan shrugs, hard and bitter. "Eye for an eye, I guess. I'd probably do the same thing."

Veronica closes her eyes tightly, willing the hot flash of anger back down. She wants to hurt them, she wants to **kill** them, but no, no. He's not hers anymore and Logan can fight his own battles, she supposes. As she calms, something occurs to her-

"Wait, what are you doing here?' She looks hard at him. "Are you _tailing_ me?"

"What?" Logan blinks. "No, I swear. You shouldn't be talking to that Nichols guy. He's bad news."

Veronica shakes her head, exasperated. "I know, he tried to drug that girl."

Logan holds up his hand to halt her. "No, I mean, he's in with bad people. And he's dealing. Don't get caught up in that, it's dangerous."

Weevil steps forward. "And just how in the hell do you know all this?"

Logan has the good grace to flush again as his hand slides up to twist nervously in his hair. "Well. I have been tailing _him._"

\--

Back at the Grande, Veronica forces back a smile when Logan pulls a messy file folder out of his desk, papers sticking out of the sides. She puts it down, flipping through the contents. Lists of addresses Nichols visited, blurry photos of Tim meeting with denizens of all of Neptune's walks of life. There doesn't seem to be any sort of rhyme or reason to Logan's efforts; he obviously had no idea what he was looking for and simply followed Tim and recorded everything, no matter how irrelevant.

She turns to regard Logan, who's staring at the floor as he self-consciously scuffs the carpet with the toe of his sneaker. "Why were you doing this? To get even?" she asks curiously.

He sighs heavily. "I don't- I wanted to make sure he wasn't going to hurt anyone else, I guess? I don't know."

He's telling the truth, she knows him well enough to see that and she's a little impressed that he was trying to do something helpful, even if he had no idea how to go about it. She picks up a dark, unfocused photo, and waves it in front of her.

"What on _ Earth_ did you use to take this?" she asks with a soft smile. She can't help herself; she's compelled to tease him just a little bit.

Finally he looks up, edges of his mouth curling a little at her amusement. "My digital," he says sheepishly. "That Duncan gave me for Christmas last year."

"I thought as much," Veronica nods. "Definitely not the PI standard, especially for night shots. But this is really helpful," she says, flipping through the photos. "At least it gives me a start on his contacts for the weeks before the bust."

She stops at a photo in the middle of the stack. "And, jackpot." Logan raises his eyebrows questioningly as she slips it out of the stack for him to see. "Tim knew Lauren's boyfriend Damien, the guy that was busted with all the cocaine. Now I just need to find out if Tim was selling to him or if it was something else."

When she's ready to leave, Logan walks with her to the door. He's been uncharacteristically quiet the whole time she's been here and she wonders what's going on with him. His silence is unsettling and Veronica hates not knowing the score. Stepping into the hallway, she turns to say goodbye but he doesn't close the door like she's expecting and simply stands against the frame, watching her.

"Thanks for this." She tells him again. "It's going to shave some time off for me."

"Glad to help," he says softly, his face unreadable as his eyes flicker over her face, and she almost reaches out to finger the bruises on his cheek. That's the problem with ex-boyfriends: you get used to touching them and then it's so hard to drop the habit.

He must see the turmoil in her face, because he tips his head to rest against the wall, and his dimples crease his cheeks. "Be careful, okay? I know you hate hearing that, but you're just going to have to deal this time because I won't be deterred."

She can't help but smile back and- Wait. She knows this head-tipping- is he flirting with her?

The confusion and adrenalin and something else all combine to make her heart trip in her chest. He can't be flirting with her, she can't do this now. She and Logan don't work together and, oh god, she has a boyfriend.

"I just remembered," She says abruptly. "I have to go," and she takes off down the hallway, not turning even when he calls after her in confusion.

\--

That night, she dreams of Logan cornered behind the union, watches the searing flash of his rage whip through him as he grapples with the Pi's. He's terrifying to behold, cold, controlled fury in his eyes as he struggles against them, kicking and growling.

She snaps awake, drenched in warm sweat and chest heaving, but instead of terror she feels only the hot, desperate discomfort of arousal in her breasts and between her thighs. "Fuck," she breathes, squirming against the sensation, and her face burns with shame as her hand slips down to rub roughly at her clit through her underwear, squeezing her eyes shut against the fire in Logan's handsome face.

\--

A hair-netted cafeteria worker plops a hamburger on her tray, and she grimaces a little at it. Lately, food in general has seemed unappealing, but this is her weekly lunch date with Wallace, Mac, and Parker and she doesn't want them to worry. It's just a cold or something. She'll get over it.

She turns back to her friends, still waiting behind her for their food. "I'll get us a table, okay?" and then heads off after Wallace's wink.

But it's exactly noon during Open House week, and prospective students and their parents clog up all the usually-free tables. She sees one mostly empty table, occupied by a lone guy with a textbook open on the other side or the room and figures that's her best shot. As she approaches, she recognizes the guy as her incredibly frustrating ex and almost rethinks her trajectory, but after a quick perusal of the crowded room she just decides "Fuck it," and walks up behind him, tapping his shoulder.

"Hey," she says quickly as Logan looks up. "Mind if Wallace, Parker, Mac and I join you? No tables left."

Looking a little startled, he shrugs. "Uh, sure. I wouldn't mind some company."

She plops her tray down across from him just as the rest of the gang rolls up, and Wallace and Parker take the seats on either side of Logan.

"Hey man," Wallace says jovially as he and Logan bump knuckles. "You started that paper yet?"

With a shake of his head, Logan chuckles. "Haven't even thought about it. Econ is killing me. You?"

Before Wallace answers, Piz bounds up to the table. "Hey guys, I have a radio meeting in a second but I just wanted to say hi!" He leans down to kiss the top of Veronica's head, and she doesn't miss the way Logan's jaw tightens just before he looks away.

"See you later," Piz tells Veronica, and then he's bouncing off to the station once again.

Veronica watches Logan avoid looking at her uncomfortably as Mac and Parker start making plans to meet in Las Vegas some time over the summer. When Mac turns to ask Wallace if he'll be around, he shakes his head in the negative.

"No, I'm going to hang in Chicago for a while, than I've got summer training with the team. I've got to make up for the lost time on the court this year." He grins at Veronica. "Sorry Vee, I know you're gonna be bored working in that library without my smiling face bugging you all the time." Sensing Logan's discomfited withdrawl from the conversation, Wallace turns to him. "You got any plans for the summer?"

Tipping back in his chair, Logan stretches a little, and Veronica's eyes follow the hem of his shirt as it rides up, exposing a sliver of his tanned belly and the dark hair below his naval. "Actually, yeah. I was gonna go to New Zealand with Dick but he bailed in favor of his mom's Italian villa, so I think I'm going to go crash in New York with my sister until school starts again."

That strikes Veronica as so absurd that she completely forgets the awkwardness of a moment before. "You're going to spend three months with _Trina_?" she scoffs disbelievingly.

"What about it?" Logan bristles, and obviously he's still on edge.

Veronica rolls her eyes. "You two can hardly stand to be in the same room together, that's all. Why are you going to New York?"

Logan's cheeks hollow a little as he purses his lips. "I don't know, maybe because there won't be anyone for me to hang out with here this summer and I won't have anything better to do? At least in New York, my family's around."

She can't let it go. "Nothing to _do_?" she asks sharply. "You could get a job like the rest of the world, maybe plug up some of the leaks in your _rapidly sinking trust fund!_ Do you know how expensive New York is?"

Logan doesn't reply immediately, instead remains staring at his tray as a hot flush of embarrassment works its way up his neck. Shit. That was too far, way too far, and she drops her eyes to her lap regretfully.

"You don't have to be such a bitch about it," he grits out, embarrassment quickly sublimated into anger, and she can feel his hot stare on her face. Mac twists her napkin uncomfortably as Veronica raises her eyes to meet his; her gaze catches on the muscle twitching in his jaw. He starts to reach for his fork, to let it all go, but stops as if he's decided something and Veronica's adrenalin surges. She's ready for a fight, even if it's in the middle of the cafeteria.

But Logan surprises her and continues glaring instead. "If you don't want me to go, just fucking say something and I won't," he finally bites out, and Veronica's mouth drops open but before she can even gather her wits to respond he's stalking away from the table, tray in hand.

Wallace exhales his breath out in a low whistle. "Yeah. Well, hey. Let's never do that again."

Mac laughs a little nervously, and Veronica tries not to flush.

Remembering, she turns on Wallace, a little annoyed. "What the hell was all that 'Hey, buddy-buddy' stuff? Since when are you friends with 'Rebel Without a Cause' over there?"

Wallace shakes his head, pained. "C'mon Vee, don't be like that. You know he's in my Law and Society class. You were there when we decided to take it together. I didn't know that he was suddenly off-limits."

Chastened, Veronica nods, propping her chin in her hand. "Yeah, but I didn't know you two were so BFF or whatever. Wallace, are you cheating on me with my ex? Cause if you are, I'm cutting you off. You won't get a red cent. You can kiss those diamonds goodbye."

Wallace rolls his eyes. "He's my partner for our final project, and sometimes we grab food after class. Happy?"

Veronica tips her head and forces a bright smile, but she can feel Wallace and Mac watching her appraisingly as she picks at her French fries. Veronica doesn't think that she likes whatever conclusions they're probably coming to about her feelings toward Logan, because she's starting to come to the same ones herself.

\--

"Hey, kiddo," Keith grins as he swings open their front door, waving a folder at Veronica, who's slumped on the couch, channel surfing. "I got those credit statements and account histories you wanted for that dealer."

"Mmm," Veronica stretches. "Thanks, best father in the world. There's some chicken in the oven."

Keith grins, rubbing his hands together exaggeratedly, and goes to get his dinner. They settle into companionable silence as Veronica flips between the Padres game and Daily Show reruns, but when Aaron Echolls' face appears on TNT, Veronica's finger hovers above the remote.

"Honey," Keith says, gently reproving, and she shakes herself.

"Sorry," she murmurs, moving to change the channel, but something on the screen catches her eye. Lynn Echolls, and a birthday party. It can't be.

And then the camera pans over the gaggle of children at the table. A red-headed girl, maybe twelve, mugs for the camera as she blows out the candles on a pink-frosted cake, and Veronica follows Lynn's hand as it comes to rest on the head of a small, familiar boy.

He's told her before about how Trina begged and begged to be in a movie until his parents finally relented, bringing them both for a brief appearance in a birthday scene in one of Lynn and Aaron's awful romantic comedy box office disasters.

Keith leans forward. "Is that _Logan_?" he says in disbelief.

She's never seen pictures of Logan so young, and it tugs at something inside. The pictures in the mansion were mostly of just Aaron, or Aaron with Lynn: Aaron's shrine to himself, with a few obligatory recent school photos of Logan and Trina scattered throughout. And the earliest Logan of her memories was already half a foot taller than her, with a mouth full of braces and gangly with the beginnings of teenage awkwardness.

Veronica has never seen this Logan, tiny and full-cheeked with ears too big for his face, and she has to press her hand to her mouth as tears prick at her eyes.

She isn't sure why she's crying. Maybe it's because she's confused and lonely and she misses him. Or maybe it's because she knows that just after they finished shooting the scene, five year-old Logan threw a tantrum and that night Aaron repaid him for the embarrassment by forcing him to hold his arm out on the floor while Aaron stepped on it, breaking his tiny bones in two places. He then told everyone Logan slipped getting out of the bathtub.

The couch sags as her father sits next to her, wrapping his arms around her. "Hey, shh. What's going on, kid? You know I'm here if you need anything."

She shakes her head vehemently. "No, Dad, it's nothing. I'm fine," she says, harshly swiping at her cheeks.

"Oh sweetheart," he says. "This has been going on for awhile now." He rests his head on top of hers, stroking her back soothingly. "Even I can see that you're not happy. Maybe you should… rethink things." He presses a kiss to her forehead. "Come on, time to turn in."

No, Veronica knows why she's crying.

She's crying because she knows that the day after Aaron Echolls broke his five year-old son's arm, he let him sit on his lap on set between takes and helped Logan draw pictures on his cast. She's crying because she doesn't understand how someone like Logan is able to trust at all, much less as completely as he does, while she still finds it completely impossible.

\---  
Veronica dreams:

Candlelight flickers over the gold of his skin as she moves on top of him slowly, deliberately. She's entranced by the way his Adam's apple works in his throat as he moans, his head tipped back against the mattress.

Logan's eyelashes flutter open and he meets her eyes, his dark, possessive stare sending another thrill of arousal through her. She shivers as his hands trail up her arms and his finger circle just above her elbows, gripping tightly.

"Mine," he whispers raggedly. "You're mine," and his hands clench around her arms, squeezing too hard, too tight. She can feel her arms bruising under his fingers, can see the blossoming purple of her skin, but she wants more and the pain just fuels her pleasure.

"Mine," he whispers again, leaning up to kiss her, and she breathes her agreement against his lips.

The shrill sound of a car horn on the street startles Veronica awake, and she rolls over, breathing heavily. Her heart races in her chest as she blinks confused in the dark, trying to orient herself. Piz lets out a low grumble in his sleep, making Veronica start, a chill slowly creeping through her.

_"Shit,"_ she whispers, scrubbing her hands over her face as she tries to choke back the impending panic. "Shit."

She can't do this right now. She can't be here, not until she gets herself straightened out. Veronica slides out of Piz's bed, gathering her clothes to slip away without waking him.

[Part 3](http://community.livejournal.com/kartography/818.html#cutid1)

 


	3. A Fine and Endless Cycle (3/3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A freshman year at Hearst and the cyclical nature of love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First foray into VM. All mistakes are mine.

  
  
  
**Entry tags:** |   
[logan/veronica](http://community.livejournal.com/kartography/tag/logan/veronica), [vm](http://community.livejournal.com/kartography/tag/vm)  
  
---|---  
  
_ **Veronica Mars: A Fine and Endless Cycle (3/3)** _

Title: A Fine and Endless Cycle (3/3)  
Author: Spin  
Characters: Veronica, Logan, ensemble  
Ship: Veronica/Logan, Veronica/Piz  
Spoilers: Through 3.09  
Rating: NC-17  
Words: 18,661 altogether

Summary: A freshman year at Hearst and the cyclical nature of love  
Disclaimer: Not mine  
Author's Note: First foray into VM. All mistakes are mine.

[Part 2](http://community.livejournal.com/kartography/626.html)

[ ](http://www.statcounter.com/)

A grateful Lauren corners her on Thursday in the Union as she's grabbing a quick bite to eat.

"I just got a call from the police, and they told me they're releasing Damien. I don't know how to thank you, however you cleared him."

Veronica shakes her head. "He never should have been arrested in the first place. He wasn't dealing. The cocaine wasn't his, it was planted." She sighs, unsure whether she should tell Lauren the rest.

"He was in some trouble, though. Apparently, your boyfriend has a gambling problem," she says gently. "He owed Tim Nichols quite a bit of money and was having problems paying off the debt. When Tim found out the cops were investigating the drug suppliers on campus, he decided to pin it on Damien to get even and to clear himself." She reaches out to touch Lauren's hand. "I'm sorry you had to find out this way."

To Veronica's great surprise, Lauren laughs. "Don't worry about it, Veronica. To tell you the truth, I wouldn't even care anymore if he really had been dealing. I'm just so relieved he's getting out of jail. I've been going out of my mind worrying about him." She smiles. "Gambling debts, whatever. I'm sure we can work it out. I'm just happy he's coming back."

\---

She and Mac spend Friday night holed up in the dorm, having a pre-pre-finals week slasher-movie marathon. Veronica was seriously looking forward to a night of blood, guts and gore, but sitting here in the dark clutching her bag of popcorn Veronica finds herself drifting father and farther into her own thoughts, completely unable to focus on the mass deaths occurring on the screen before her. She's spent the last few days in a state of constant uncertainty. It's impossible to deny that she still feels something for Logan, something strong, something inescapable. But she's with Piz. Piz is a good person, like her father is a good person, and she doesn't want to hurt her chances with him by passing him up for someone who could possibly self-detonate at any second.

How does this always happen to her? Veronica feels like she's constantly bouncing, yo-yo-ing between dangerous and safe, smart and stupid, and-

"So are you ever going to spit it out, or are you going to just keep drowning out the movie with your noisy thinking all night?"

Startled out of her reverie, she turns to Mac apologetically. "Sorry, Mac Attack. This case is just," and she trails off weakly because she can see Mac isn't buying it.

"The case?" Mac looks at her knowingly. "The case you closed _yesterday_?"

Veronica just shrugs tiredly in response.

"Okay." Mac says, and her face begins to look a little green. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but you can talk to me about it. I owe you after how good you were this summer and-," she scrubs an exasperated hand over her face, "please just start so it will be over sooner and we can get back to the serial killers."

"Wow." Veronica smirks. "Now I _really_ want to spill my guts."

Mac simply gives her an imploring look, making Veronica sigh in resignation.

"I'm thinking of breaking up with Piz."

Mac nods. "For Logan."

Veronica just stares at her. "It's that obvious?" At Mac's nod, she continues. "But nothing is solved. How can I be with someone that's going to be in trouble all the time? It's just constantly something with him. Piz was a nice breather."

"Okay." Mac takes a deep breath. "Brutal, take-no-prisoners honesty time?"

Agreeing, Veronica nods.

"I think you and Piz aren't going anywhere not just because you're hung up on Logan but because you're drawn to people who break the rules." She smiles a little. "You always forget I'm not like Wallace. I've been going to school with you since kindergarten. You've always hung out with people like that. You're drawn to them. Lilly Kane? She and Logan were always in trouble, but they were your best friends. Hellions, both of them, but you knew that when you and Logan got together. And if you're expecting him not to act like a jackass most of the time, then I think your expectations are way too high." Mac shakes herself. "I'm not judging. I understand the appeal, because I feel that way with you a lot of the time."

"With me?" Veronica blinks.

"You don't exactly follow the rules, and you don't take crap from anyone. Breaking the law with you? It's thrilling, and you obviously think it is too, because why else would you still be doing it?"

Veronica hardens instantly, defenses clicking into place. "I do it to help people."

Mac sighs. "Okay, I know."

"I just don't want to be my mother," Veronica blurts, and freezes, taken aback with herself. She doesn't even remember consciously thinking that, but it's obviously something that's been lingering. "You know about- with Jake Kane." She exhales. "I think everyone in Neptune knows. I just- why can't I just decide? How is it that I have a great boyfriend, yet I was five seconds away from going to the Grande last night? It's making me crazy."

"I think that's a valid concern." Mac nods, mouth pursed seriously in that funny way she has. "Just answer one question for me. When you and Logan are together, are you at all tempted to sleep with other people?"

Veronica thinks for a long moment. "No," she answers hesitantly. "No, and certainly never like this."

"Well," Mac says matter-of-factly, her inflection one that Veronica recognizes from the times she's successfully untangled some sort of computing puzzle. "Then it sounds like you've already made your decision."

 

\---

Veronica breaks up with Piz the Tuesday before finals. She sits him down in the room he shares with Wallace, and they face each other on the bed as she twists her hands nervously. The last two times she's broken up with someone, things haven't exactly gone smoothly and she's really hoping that nothing gets broken this time.

"I'm really sorry for what I'm about to say," she tells him slowly. "You don't deserve it and I think you're a great guy. But I can't be with you anymore, because it's dishonest." Veronica takes a deep breath, steeling herself. "I still have feelings- strong feelings- for," and she can't say it so she swallows hard. "For- someone else. I'm so sorry, Piz."

He nods, processing, and she takes his hands and squeezes them. "Well." He finally says. "I can't actually say that I'm surprised."

Ok, not the reaction she was anticipating.

"...And maybe this is a good thing," Piz continues. "Maybe we'll be better off as friends."

Wait. "What?" she blinks. Where the hell did that come from?

Piz shrugs, palms open and towards her. "I think you're a great girl, and we really get along. I like you a lot. But sometimes, I don't know... You get a little hostile.

Veronica's mouth falls open a little in disbelief, and she quirks her head to the side, trying to process. "Qu'est-ce que c'est?"

Piz's mouth quirks downward a little, caught off guard, and he struggles to backtrack. "I mean, you're just not exactly who I thought you were, and sometimes I'm just not quite sure how to respond. I just think you might be better off with someone a little more..." he gestures uselessly.

"Hostile?" Veronica supplies, a little indignantly and she winces at how strident she sounds. How did this suddenly become about Piz having problems with her?

"Precisely." He purses his lips and quirks his eyebrows at her entreatingly, and Veronica realizes with a start that she's not mad, and not actually all that surprised.

\---   
Veronica agonizes for two days. Should she call him? She really, really wants to see him but she doesn't think Logan would necessarily appreciate seeing _her_, especially considering how badly their last meeting went.

She still doesn't know what she wants. Has anything changed?

But as she's cleans out her desk, her typical response to emotional turmoil of all kinds, she finds the file folder stuffed full with Logan's attempts at surveillance. As she rifles through the papers again, fingering the photos and the painstaking logs of Tim's activities, it strikes her that this folder represents hours, weeks of effort on his part.

She's never known Logan to do something so selfless, to spend hours of his life trying to keep someone from harm. It doesn't fit with her picture of him at all. But then again, if he really is as selfish, as untrustworthy as she often makes him out to be in her mind, why is she so attached to him in the first place? She certainly doesn't have any deep, abiding feeling for say, Dick Casablancas.

No, Veronica thinks that underneath all of his pathos, Logan has a good heart. This file folder itself is solid proof of that fact, maybe even is proof that he's maturing, leaving the worst of his self-involved arrogance behind.

And while he may be emotionally unstable and a little too needy, her recent relationship with Piz has just served to illuminate her own emotional shortcomings. She has problems opening up to anyone, trusting anyone.

When Logan pressed her to put her faith in him, she'd convinced herself that her reluctance stemmed from how he'd hurt her after Lily's death. But she had a clean slate with Piz, she had every reason to trust him, and yet putting her faith in Piz seemed even more impossible than putting it in Logan. After all, Logan's come through for her in the past; what has Piz ever done? When it comes down to the wire, Logan's who she really wants on her side.

Trust issues, bad behavior, whatever. She'll go talk to him tomorrow. She can't take not talking to him anymore, not when he'd been her closet confidante for months. She can't take not touching him anymore. They'll start fixing this tomorrow.

\---

Veronica waits nervously outside of Logan's sociology class, tugging self-consciously at the shirt she'd chosen after half an hour of deliberation this morning. She'd tried to convince herself that she wasn't making any extra effort for him, but after drying her hair carefully so it lay straight and shining over her shoulders, it was a hard sell.

Students stream past and around her as the campus bell chimes the hour. Her phone beeps, signaling an incoming message, and she digs in her bag to retrieve it. As she shifts through her books, someone taps her on the shoulder and she looks up, heart in her throat.

But instead of Logan, it's Wallace standing before her, smiling fondly. "Hey, supafly. You waiting for me?"

Caught, Veronica shifts uncomfortably. "Uh, actually…"

"Ah." Wallace says knowingly. "Just so you know, Logan wasn't in class today. Or on Wednesday. He's probably sick."

"Oh." Veronica says, unsure how to proceed. "Thanks."

Wallace looks at her appraisingly. "Piz told me you two broke up. I'm sorry."

She shakes her head. "Don't worry about it. I'll be fine."

"Yeah, I know." Wallace says seriously. "Logan's been real broken up, you know, since you two split. He's a decent guy."

And somehow, Wallace's tacit approval, that tiny smile at the corner of his mouth, goes a long way towards appeasing all of her doubts.

\---

Two hours later, Veronica steers her van into a parking spot two cars down from Logan's beloved Range Rover in the Grande's dimly lit garage, and dials his number as she heads to the penthouse level. But his phone just rings and rings, eventually rolling to voicemail, and she clicks off before she's subjected to another inspirational message of the day.

"Logan?" she calls, knocking at the door. When he doesn't answer, she dials his cell again, and she hears the familiar trill of his phone though the wall. "Logan?" she calls out again. Strange. He's usually as one with his cell phone.

By the time she reaches the lobby, Veronica's already called Dick, who hasn't seen or heard from Logan since Saturday. That worries her enough to call Trina, who is apparently so out of the loop that she doesn't know Veronica and Logan aren't still together. Needless to say, Trina hasn't talked to him either.

Lucky for her, Tina's working the front desk. "Hey" Veronica says brightly as she approaches. "Remember me?"

"Sure," Tina smiles, friendly and professional. "Logan's girlfriend. What can I do for you?"

Okay, that makes things easier. "I charged a couple things to Logan's room and I want to pay him back, but I can't remember how much the charges were. Is there any way I could see a list of his room charges from, say, the past two weeks so I can figure it out?

"Yup," Tina responds as she begins typing. "Easy as pie." She passes a printout to Veronica.

Last week looks like Logan's typical routine: breakfast and dinner service almost every day. But this week, the last charge is for room service on Tuesday morning, which means he probably hasn't been back, even though his car is here.

"Thanks, Tina." Veronica musters up a smile before she heads back to the elevator. Her finger hovers over the button for 'Garage.' But… she does still have a key. What the hell, she decides and then she's going back up, up, up to floor 11.

\---

She searches the suite, looking for anything that might suggest something's wrong. She doesn't find his wallet; he must have it with him. And if Logan has his Black AmEx, well, he could be anywhere in the world. She decides to take that as a good sign.

She does find a stack of photographs of the two of them in the top drawer of his bedside dresser, most of which she remembers him taking over the summer. He'd insisted on carrying his camera with him to 'make new memories' since all of his other photographs had gone up in flames. They're surprisingly sweet, Veronica thinks, and her heart aches a little as she tucks them carefully back into his drawer.

Finally, she gives up, returning to the living room to retrieve her messenger bag, which is the exact moment that the door swings open and Veronica finds herself face to face with a wrinkled, slightly disheveled Logan.

"Well, well, well," he says, raising his eyebrows. "Breaking and entering. Color me surprised."

She sniffs, trying to hide her embarrassment at being caught sifting through his things. "I'm pretty sure it's not a B&amp;E if you just never bothered to ask for your keycard back."

Logan waves his hand. "Whatever. I knew you could probably get in anytime you wanted without a key, so it seemed like a waste to make you go through all that extra effort. So, what are you investigating me for now?"

Veronica reaches out an imploring hand, suddenly worried that Logan isn't going to take this as well as she'd hoped. "It's not like that, I swear. I just wanted to talk to you, but you'd dropped off the face of the earth and your car was still in the lot. I was worried."

He rolls his eyes. "Bullshit you were worried. If you'd been worried you would've found me in five minutes. I got enough 'P.I. 101' lectures during our two previous relationships to know that the first thing you do when someone's missing is check the hospital and the jail."

Her stomach drops, leaving a sickly feeling in her abdomen. "Please tell me you aren't in trouble again."

Scoffing, he shakes his head. "Of course you'd jump to that conclusion." He plops down on the couch. "And no, I wasn't in jail. I've been in the hospital since Tuesday. I was just sitting in the waiting room, minding my own business, and this nurse hears me coughing. Next thing I know, I'm getting a chest X-ray."

Trying to swallow over the knot that's suddenly risen up in her throat, she steps toward the couch. "You're sick?"

Waving his hand dismissively, he rolls over to look at her. "Lung infection, easily treatable. But they held me prisoner so they could perform a barrage of tests to rule out anything serious." He sighs. "It was actually a nice change of pace. Like a mini-vacation. Instead of wallowing in self-pity in my hotel room, I got to wallow in a twin adjustable bed, surrounded by soothing pastels."

"Why didn't you call someone?" she demands, frustrated with his flippancy. "Did it occur to you that people might worry?"

"Actually, no, it didn't. And…" he says, sitting up to grab his cell and flip it open. "Surprise, no one did. Two missed calls from Veronica, one from Dick, no messages." He flips the phone shut with a flourish.

"I wish you'd called me. I could have at least come and sat with you, brought you some clothes."

"Yeah, well," and she can hear the edge glinting in his voice. "I didn't realize our talking privileges extended beyond you being rude to me in front of all your friends."

She knows he has a point, but him bringing it up while she's trying to be nice just pisses her off. "Why were you at the hospital in the first place? Some unexplained rash, perhaps?"

He flushes, and she knows she's hit close to home. "They just approved the HPV vaccine for men, if you must know."

"Ah," Veronica says, a little meanly. "How surprising. Logan Echolls, first in line for an STD vaccine."

"Hey," he flares back, standing abruptly, temper burning in his eyes. "I'm not the person in the room who gave the other person in the room _chlamydia._"

Silence explodes over the suite in the harsh wake of his words.

"_What?_ Veronica chokes out.

Logan scrubs his hands over his face. "Chlamydia," he says tiredly. "Transmission through oral-genital contact? Any of this ringing any bells from health class?" He sighs. "Shit. I wasn't going to tell you. I got tested after the trial, and well-."

She studies him carefully. "Is that why you were so weird after I got back from New York? Why didn't you tell me?"

He laughs a little to himself. "Well, I don't know if you noticed, but at the time I was trying pretty hard to date you again. I didn't think a 'Thanks for the STD' would really help with that." His face softens. "And you didn't know when it happened, so I really couldn't be mad. I didn't want you to feel any worse about the whole situation."

She blinks. "That's actually- kind of sweet."

Logan huffs out an exhale. "Yeah, well. Remember that the next time you're giving me crap about sex." He sighs heavily. "Now could you please leave so I can go to bed?"

"No," she tells him firmly. "I need to talk to you." It's now or never, and she steels herself for it. "Piz and I broke up."

Something flashes across his face, maybe satisfaction, but before she can react it's gone, his expression sliding easily into his familiar mask of sarcastic detachment.

"I'm sorry. He was a nice guy." She can hear the tiny hint of disdain in Logan's voice. "So, why are you telling me this?"

When she says nothing, his face hardens, making her stomach knot a little. "Let me guess. You're here for pity sex. No, wait," he says, getting progressively louder as he stalks over to slam open the refrigerator. "I know. You must be here for our annual summer fling. The 'nice guy' dumps you, then we have lots of sex and when you get bored, you stop taking my phone calls."

She stands frozen, appalled, and she absolutely cannot believe he thinks that. "You know it wasn't like that, Logan. I know you do."

He doesn't turn around to face her, simply shakes his head as he stares stubbornly out the window, and then she's shouting because he's making her so mad she can't even think straight.

"And I broke up with Piz, you asshole, because I can't stop thinking about _you._" She punctuates this by grabbing his arm, roughly tugging him around to face her, and then they're kissing with bruising intensity as Logan's hands clutch desperately at her thighs.

Her hands scrabble for purchase on his shoulders as she sucks hard at his tongue, and when he hefts her up higher, pressing her against the wall, she lets out a little squeak of surprise. Her legs come up naturally to clench around his waist as he roughly palms her breast, and she grinds her pelvis against his, desperate for contact.

Veronica moans as his free hand finds its way up her skirt, and Logan's breath hitches a little as he realizes she's already soaking through her underwear. "Fighting with me really does it for you, huh?"

She wraps her hand around his neck, pulling him back to her lips to shut him up. "I want you," she breathes into his mouth as she grinds hard against his cock, and he bites at her neck in response. He undoes his pants, and she gasps as the slick head of his erection slides into the crook of her thigh.

"I'm still on the pill," Veronica mutters, clutching at his ass to urge him on. "And I've been using condoms. So get on with it." God, no one else makes her feel this way, she can admit that now when she's clutched around him like this. She's never felt this hot, this desperate with anyone else but Logan pressed against her.

He thrusts into her roughly, tearing a cry from her lips as her nails dig into his back. They start a fast, pounding rhythm, and she knows her back and ass are going to be bruised like hell tomorrow but right now she's so far beyond caring it hardly registers.

Logan's holding back, she can tell, and she doesn't want that. She wants all of him. Massaging his shoulders, she leans in to whisper to him, breath playing hotly against his ear. "You're the only person who's ever been inside without a condom. Only you," and it makes him jerk violently against her. He seals his lips over hers, panting as he thrusts harder, and she understands Logan well enough to know that he's trying to fuck Piz out of her and away, but she feels way too good to care and then she's shuddering around his cock as she chokes out his name. The clench of her muscles triggers his own orgasm, and his forehead tips down to press into her neck.

She can feel his legs shaking under her just before they slide slowly down the wall to sit on the floor, sticky with sweat and exertion.

After a long silence, Logan heaves himself to his feet, tucking himself back into his pants. "Well," he says, voice heavy with resignation as he looks anywhere but at her. "You got your sex, so now I'm going to bed."

Veronica gapes as he walks away toward the couch. She can't believe him; she'd been so sure that if she could just kiss him, apologize with her body, that'd he'd understand and they could go back to whatever it is they used to be.

"Logan, wait," she calls desperately. Maybe hot, angry sex wasn't the best approach to take with him. She has to fix this; this can't be the end of them. She won't let it, she can't. "Please, just hear me out. I didn't come here for sex." She swallows hard, willing herself to see this through. "I want to be with you. I want to fix this."

He sighs, turning to face her. "I want that, too," he says quietly. "I hate that I do, because I know nothing's changed, but I want that. I want us to have a real relationship."

"I didn't see you, Logan," she says, voice breaking a little. "I didn't think you deserved that from me. And I'm still not sure I can give you that, trust you like you want me to, if I can love you like that."

The air seems to whoosh out of him, and Logan deflates onto the couch. "Right. Of course." He sighs heavily, and she's never heard him sound so defeated. "I've done a lot of terrible things since Lilly died, I know that, but I've been trying."

She shakes her head. "No, you don't understand. I meant... I don't know if it's possible for me at all. It's not because of you, not really. But..." she trails off and why is it so goddamn hard to say this to him? She swallows against the lump in her throat. She's Veronica Mars. She can power through this small thing when she's faced down drug dealers and rapists and murders. "What I'm trying to say is that this time, I'm willing to try. You do deserve it, you've grown up so much, and right now you're the only person I'd want to try for. I want to _try_."

Veronica hasn't managed to look at him at all for the entire time she's been speaking, instead staring intently at her own hands twisting in front of her. Her peripheral vision tells her he's still sitting motionless on the couch, and she finally, finally musters the guts to look up at his face. She expects him to be angry or disappointed, but instead his face is flushed, eyes guarded but bright, like he's barely daring to hope what she's saying is the truth, and she finds herself catching his hand as he sways to his feet.

"Do you mean it?" he asks hoarsely, his face deadly serious. "You're not just saying that? You really mean it?"

She has to bite her lip to hold back a sob as she nods furiously. "Don't go to New York," she chokes out, and Logan's short bark of incredulous, happy laughter is swallowed up in the heat of their kiss.

They stumble to the bedroom and fuck slowly this time, tenderly. When Veronica comes she presses her forehead hard against his, holding his gaze, so inexplicably glad to be with him again this way that she feels light as air, like everything else has melted away.  
\--

Later, Logan slides bonelessly to his side to lounge on his back among the tangled sheets, glassy-eyed and satisfied. "Mmm, _endorphins_," he mumbles dreamily. "I love sex."

Veronica smiles at him her through her own little cozy chemical fog. "They're certainly far more effective than anti-depressants."

Logan chuckles. "I'd like to see that in the ad campaign." He spreads his hands expansively, framing it in his mind. "Fucking: My Anti-Drug.

"It'd make a very sexy billboard," she replies sleepily, and he laughs again before falling into thoughtful silence.

"You okay?" she asks hesitantly after a long moment. Blinking, he rolls toward her, resting his nose against her arm.

"It's a lot to process," he replies quietly. "And- I really missed you. You're my best friend these days, you know?"

That has her turning to face him. "What? Really?"

He frowns. "Of course. I love Dick, but it's not like we have actual, real conversations. I really hated not talking to you."

She's quiet a moment, tracing his hipbone carefully with the tips of her fingers. "That's what did it for me this time," she sighs, and at his questioning look, she continues. "The thought of you going to New York. Not seeing you all summer." She chuckles a little to herself. "Piz is going back to Beaverton and I didn't even care, but you…"

He presses a kiss to her forehead. "I know the feeling. When you got into Stanford, I seriously started considering moving to San Francisco. And we were barely talking at the time. "

"Wow," Veronica snorts after soaking that in. "We are seriously twisted." Logan's answering smile warms her all the way down to her toes.

And when she wakes up at 3 AM to the sound of him muttering in his sleep about a pencil sharpener, she isn't annoyed at all and simply threads her fingers through his, stroking his palm carefully until he quiets again.

\---

In the morning, they move to the couch. Veronica sprawls on the leather and Logan settles in on the floor between her legs, his head resting against her knee as they watch reruns of 'Saved By The Bell.' Veronica rubs the tendons that play along the back of his neck as he offers running commentary on what a pimp Zack Morris is.

"If he'd gone to Neptune, we would have been best friends. We would've ruled the school."

Veronica smiles fondly at his enthusiasm for the subject. "Didn't you rule the school anyway?"

"Glad to finally hear you admit it," he smirks. "Seriously though, we would have been awesome. Except Kelly would've dated me instead." He tips his head closer to her leg and smiles back up at her. Logan is all brightness and sunshine this morning, such an abrupt turnaround from the night before. Make-up sex always seems to do that for him. Well really, if she's honest with herself, most sex does that for him.

She ruffles his hair, teasing. "Kelly's too nice for you. You'd scare her away."

"You're too nice for me," he responds, turning to regard her seriously and she hears a little of his bitterness seeping in and she doesn't want that again, not right now. The moment crackles between them, all the playfulness of a minute ago flown away, and Veronica thinks they're at the edge of something. She's walking a tightrope and if she leans either way they're both going to fall.

She makes her decision and reaches out to tangle his fingers up with hers. "No," she tells him firmly. "I'm not. I'm not really that nice at all."

The look that passes over his face tells her he knows this is as close to an apology that she's ever going to come, because she doesn't think she's wrong but at least she's admitting they both have things to work on. She's not going to put it all on him this time. Logan rises up on his knees and she leans forward to meet his lips, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders so she can tug him up onto the couch with her.

He pulls back to rest his forehead against hers. "Is this the way it's always going to be?" Logan asks, only half-teasing. "Six months on, a month off, two months on, three months off?"

A long, comfortable silence stretches out between them as Veronica watches his face, and his hand comes up to carefully smooth down her hair, such a familiar gesture. In that brief unguarded moment before her cynicism can come crashing down on her again Veronica sees her relationships stretched out before and behind her in time, ebbing and flowing like waves crashing on the shore.

The chase, the catch, infatuation, disappointment, disillusionment, heartbreak. Duncan, Logan, Piz. But somehow now, always back to Logan.

She sees months of loving Logan and months of despising him, but most of the time she's caught in some complicated place in between the two, transitions between as regular as the change of the seasons. Like circadian rhythms of emotion.

And just as suddenly, it's gone.

"I hope not," she tells him, and reaches out to gently cup his cheek. She is so rarely tender with him, and when she is it cuts him right down to the bone. Veronica feels the shiver that runs through him under her touch, and she lets her fingers soothe him, tracing his cheekbone. "But if it is, if we are..." she trails off and shrugs, but her eyes say that right here, right now, she wouldn't mind being that way if she's still with him.

They stay there for the rest of the day, and Veronica is content.

\---

Veronica makes it through her second college finals week with the help of many Starbucks Espresso Doubleshots and lots of late night Ben and Jerry's. The summer sun rises high over Neptune and Veronica bids her new friends goodbye as they leave for home. She hugs Piz and he promises to send her a CD from this awesome band his friend started back in Beaverton. Their newest tracks are mind-blowing, he says earnestly and she returns his grin with sincere feeling. Piz is a good guy.

Veronica and Mac help Parker load her mother's car and they all look at each other helplessly when Parker's mom starts pitching a fit about her not folding her dresses correctly.

"But they'll _wrinkle,_ Parker," Mac drawls in flawless imitation after her mother goes upstairs to get the last box, and they all laugh. Parker steps forward to wrap Mac in a tight hug, and Veronica catches how Mac flinches for a split-second before relaxing into the other girl's embrace, squeezing her back. "If you need a break from the family, feel free..." and Mac trails off. Parker smiles and nods in thanks.

When they break apart, Parker turns to Veronica. "I just wanted to thank you for this year," she says, and Veronica doesn't quite know what to say because she was thinking something along the exact same lines. Thanks for being there, maybe? Thanks for coming when I called, even though I didn't do the same for you?

"Right back at'cha," is what comes out of her mouth, and Veronica grimaces at how stupid it is. But before she even processes it, she's stepping forward and wrapping Parker up in a firm embrace as well.

\---

So Hearst wasn't exactly what she was hoping for. Her expectations might've been a little high, she sees that now. But looking back over the year, she doesn't think she would trade it, not the students, not the professors, not anything.

Well, maybe the low income job in the library. But that's besides the point.

Veronica sees Angie Dahl wearing her Stanford sweatshirt at Java the Hut when she and Logan run in to grab a coffee after her late shift. Madison Sinclair listens intently as Angie prattles on about how she thought everyone at Stanford would be more studious and serious, but really, it's just like Neptune, but bigger, less cliquey, and with more alcohol.

"It's like I never left," Angie gushes. "I love it."

Veronica smiles to herself, and tucks her hand warmly in the crook of Logan's elbow when he appears with her latte.

\---

 

Veronica settles into a lazy routine when school ends and summer begins. She works afternoon and evening shifts at the library, blissfully slow during summer hours, and helps her dad around the office. Cases always slow down in summertime. Why, she couldn't say. She thinks everyone's just too damn hot to care about anything and certainly don't have the energy to go through the trouble of hiring a PI.

In the mornings, she lies on the warm sand of the beach with Back-up at her side as Logan splashes around in the ocean. Sometimes she reads, and sometimes she lets Logan try to teach her to surf. He doesn't do much teaching though, and instead spends most of their lessons trying to dunk her and laughing when she gets water up her nose and has to snort it out.

Veronica never understands why it's so much easier to be with Logan in the summer. Maybe it's all the free time; she rarely has to choose between spending time with him and her other obligations because there's time for everything and Logan's never busy. Maybe it's that she's less stressed, without the pressure of classes slowly building in crescendo.

But really, she thinks it has something to do with not having a plan. Veronica saves all her expectations up for the school year and then in summers she just drifts along, waiting to see where the months take her. Her father's always worked summers and they rarely have the funds for vacations, so there's really never been anything to expect. It's always nice, drowsy, Neptune summer limbo (as long as Logan's not burning down pools).

A cold, wet tongue interrupts her reverie, and Veronica gently pushes Back-up away as she opens her eyes, squinting against the sunshine. Logan looms above her, toweling off his hair and grinning widely, exhilarated from the water. Light glitters off the sapphire blue of the surf behind him and her breath catches a little at the picture he makes, happy and relaxed against the ocean and sky.

Back-up settles against her hip again, warm and solid, as Logan flops down on the soft sand beside her and lets out a groan of contentment.

"The waves are great today," he says, eyes closed, basking in the sunlight. His fingers reach out to tenderly trace the curve of her bicep.

"Yeah," she smiles back, listening to the soft _whoosh_ of the surf. Her eyes drift slowly shut.

 

Heaven, she lets herself think.

 

 

-end-

 


End file.
